


Its All Too Real

by Screaming_Willow



Series: BMC Character Study [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screaming_Willow/pseuds/Screaming_Willow
Summary: In the end, Jeremy Heere was fucked up.In the end, Jeremy Heere fucked up.Ine the end, Jeremy Heere couldn't take the constant nagging.-This is a character study for Jeremy Heere from BMC.I do not own the characters.Trigger warning:Suicide, Graphic Description of SuicidePlease read with caution!-The Author





	Its All Too Real

There was nobody in that hospital room when Jeremy woke up.  
Everything was quiet.  
Everything was dull, including the bright white of the room.

Jeremy blinked as he remembered what happened in the past few months. The Squip, The Play, Halloween, Michael.

Michael. He left Michael in the bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. Michael was all by himself. Jeremy called him a loser.

Michael rescued Jeremy.

Jeremy didn't deserve that.

Hot, salty tears ran down the boy's cheeks.

Jeremy didn't deserve anything. Everything about him is so terrible and makes him want to die.

Words repeat in the teens mind and the torture he endured from the monster in his head echoed in his body.

He struggled to breathe, gripping his chest as if it would save him. He gasped for air and coughed.  
He hyperventilated. It took a while before he calmed. But once he did, the nurse came in to let him go.

-

When Jeremy got home, his father had left. His father left to be a father in all the wrong ways.

Jeremy sat on his bed. It was just as he left it. Covers straightened, the cartoon-ish space sheets in plain view. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the slightly greasy curls run past in fingers to overlap the other curls.

And once again, Jeremy Heere cried. Once again, everything failed. Once again, Jeremy could hear the SQUIP scream at him.

Of every voice in Jeremy's head the quietest one was his own. And all the other raged above it.

Jeremy cried till he fell asleep.

-  
Jeremy walked into the building of Middle Borough High, slouching slightly.

He could feel the stares, he could hear the whispering, the shouts.  
He hid his face in his hair, trying to hid the forming tears. 

He was hated. He was hated by so many people. And when he looked up at people who he could have been friends with, he broke inside.

He didn't see Rich, but he saw Jake, with both his broken legs the accompanied the pained look on his face, staring at him with disappointed fear.  
He saw Brooke, backed against her locker, staring at him with angry fear.  
He saw Chloe, who didn't even look at him.  
He saw Jenna, a sorry and broken look on her face, mixing with anger she stored deep.  
The he saw Christine. And when he saw her, he wonders why he did all this for a girl he barely knew.  
Christine looked at him with so much fear. It paired him.

He didn't see Michael. But deep down, he didn't really want to.

Jeremy went through the rest of his day facing insults and whispers and stares and angry faces.  
Jeremy was scared. Scared and scarred.

Jeremy Heere got home with only one thought in mind.  
And that thought he wouldn't share.

-

Jeremy wrote two notes, trying to write as neatly and as quickly as he could on the paper.

He wrote the same thing on each, but to two different people.

In these notes he wrote: 

'Dad/Michael:

I'm sorry, I was an idiot. I shouldn't have done these things. I know you're disappointed, and you probably hate me, but its for the best. It not your fault. Its not Rich's fault. It's not Christine's fault. Its not the SQUIP's fault. Its mine.

Have a better year than I have,

Jeremiah Heere.'

He folded the notes and shoved them on the pockets of his worn blue cardigan.

He stepped up on the chair and grabbed the noose he tied to the hook on the ceiling.

He slipped the hoop of rope around his neck, felling the rough and scratchy material bite into the skin on his neck.

Jeremy shuffled forward to the edge of the chair, staring down at the floor.

Jeremy smiled as he remembered the good times. He felt the tears run down his cheeks. He shuffled till his heels were on the very edge.

Then he let himself fall.

The roop tightened as he heaved. He clawed at his throat and gasped for air as his face tinted red and blue. He strangled and withered as more tears flew from his eyes.  
He felt the sickly liquid called blood slip slowly past his lips and he coughed.  
He made weak sounds as black rimmed his vision.

Air stopped coming as he heaved once more. He let his hands drop to his sides and he smiled as black peace flooded his mind.

His last breathe left him quickly, and he was gone.

-  
In the end, Jeremy Heere was fucked up.  
In the end, Jeremy Heere fucked up.  
In the end, Jeremy Heere couldn’t take the constant nagging.

In the end, Jeremy Heere took his own life.  
In the end, Jeremy Heere died.  
In the end, Jeremy Heere was gone, and barely anyone mourned.


End file.
